The Tale of Kiddie Katydid by Arthur Scott Bailey

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Title: The Tale of Kiddie Katydid

Author: Arthur Scott Bailey

Illustrator: Harry L. Smith

Release Date: February 14, 2008 [EBook #24608]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

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Cover

Front Endpapers Left

Front Endpapers Right

THE TALE OF

KIDDIE KATYDID

TUCK-ME-IN TALES

(Trademark Registered)

BY

ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY

AUTHOR OF

SLEEPY-TIME TALES

(Trademark Registered)

———————————
The Tale of Jolly Robin
The Tale of Old Mr. Crow
The Tale of Solomon Owl
The Tale of Jasper Jay

The Tale of Rusty Wren
The Tale of Daddy Long-Legs
The Tale of Kiddie Katydid
The Tale of Buster Bumblebee

The Tale of Freddie Firefly
The Tale of Betsy Butterfly

Kiddie Sees Benjamin Bat in Front of the

Moon

Frontispiece—(Page 71)

TUCK-ME-IN TALES

(Trademark Registered)

———————————

THE TALE OF

KIDDIE
KATYDID

BY

ARTHUR SCOTT BAILEY

Author of

"SLEEPY-TIME TALES"

(Trademark Registered)

ILLUSTRATED BY

HARRY L. SMITH

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS

Made in the United States of America

Copyright, 1918, by

GROSSET & DUNLAP

CONTENTS

CHAPTER
PAGE

I.A Great Secret
1

II.The Warning
6

III.Mr. Nighthawk
10

IV.A Whining Caller
15

V.Solomon Owl's Cry
20

VI.Freddie Firefly's Discovery
26

VII.Freddie Wants to Tell
31

VIII.Spreading the News
36

IX.Mr. Frog Is Pleased
40

X.A Pair of Rascals
45

XI.A Change in the Weather
51

XII.A Present for Kiddie
55

XIII.Kiddie Katydid Is Shy
60

XIV.Kiddie Keeps His Promise
65

XV.Benjamin Bat's Plan
70

XVI.A Noisy Crowd
75

XVII.Kitty Did!
79

XVIII.The Two Grasshoppers
85

XIX.A Quarrel
89

XX.The Stranger's Message
94

XXI.Leaper the Locust Is Worried
99

XXII.The Short-Horns Arrive
104

XXIII.The Best of Friends
110

ILLUSTRATIONS

Kiddie Sees Benjamin Bat in Front of the Moon Frontispiece

PAGE

Kiddie's Secret is Discovered by Freddie Firefly
28

Kiddie Took His New Coat from the Twig
59

Kiddie Faced Leaper the Locust
90

THE TALE OF KIDDIE

KATYDID

I

A GREAT SECRET

Whoever Katy was, and whatever she might have done, nobody in Pleasant Valley knew anything about her except

Kiddie Katydid and his numerous and noisy family.

To be sure, many of the wild folk—and the people in the farmhouse, too—remembered hearing her name mentioned

the year before.

But they had quite forgotten about her, until August came and Kiddie Katydid and his relations brought her to their

minds once more.

Each night the Katydids' rasping chant was repeated again and again: Katy did, Katy did; she did, she did! But

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since in any crowd there are always a few that want to be different from the rest, now and then some member of
Kiddie's clan insisted that Katy didn't—somewhat in this fashion: Katy did, Katy did; she did, she didn't!

However, there were always so many others to drown any such puzzling statement with their shrill clamor that Katy

really did do it (whatever it was!) that nobody paid much attention to those few who didn't quite agree.

On warm, dry, midsummer nights the Katydids all made a terrific racket. But there wasn't one of them that outdid

Kiddie. He always had the best time when he was making the most noise. And since he liked to station himself in a tree
near Farmer Green's house, his uproar often rose plainly above that of the other Katydids.

Lying in bed in his little room under the eaves, Johnnie Green sometimes wished that Kiddie would keep quiet long

enough to let him go to sleep in peace.

To be sure, the balmy breezes wafted many other night sounds through Johnnie's open window. From near-by came

Chirpy Cricket's cheerful piping. And in the distant swamp the musical Frog family held a singing party every evening.
Johnnie Green liked to hear them. But he objected strongly to the weird hooting and horrid laughter of Solomon Owl,
who left the hemlock woods after dark to hunt for field mice.

As for Kiddie Katydid, he paid little attention to any other of the night cries. No matter what anybody else said, he

solemnly hurled back at him that neverending refrain, Katy did, Katy did; she did, she did!

You would have thought, if you had heard Kiddie, that somebody had disputed his statement. But such was not the

case at all. Since no one except the Katydids knew anything about the mysterious Katy, nobody was able to say
truthfully that she didn't do it. In fact, the whole affair was a great secret, so far as outsiders were concerned. And one
night Johnnie Green even thrust his head out of the window and cried impatiently:

"All right! All right! I admit that Katy did it. And now do please keep still!"

Of course, his plea failed to silence Kiddie Katydid. But it relieved Johnnie Green's mind and made him feel better,

anyhow.

Kiddie told his own people about Johnnie's outburst. And they all agreed that it was a rude thing to do.

"Doesn't he know," they asked, "that the night belongs to us?"

II

THE WARNING

It must not be supposed that all of Kiddie Katydid's family made the same neverending din at night. Actually it was

only the gentlemen that so amused themselves. No doubt the ladies, too, knew the secret about the mysterious Katy—
and what she did.

But for some reason they never, never mentioned the matter. Even when they gossiped among themselves, as they

sometimes did, they never touched upon that subject.

Furthermore, in the daytime Kiddie and his fellows were as quiet as they could be. Having waked the echoes all

night long, they were content, when morning came, to rest silently among the trees and shrubs. And a very good reason
did they have, too, for such a habit. During the day there were altogether too many birds flying about, to please the
Katydids. And Kiddie often remarked in a joking way that the only birds he cared about were those that didn't care
about him!

Of course, there were a few birds that prowled about Pleasant Valley after dark. Mr. Nighthawk was one of that

crew of nightly wanderers. And whenever the word was passed around that he had been seen in the neighborhood,
Kiddie Katydid tried to lower his solemn chant, because he knew that Mr. Nighthawk was usually in search of
something to eat.

Now, when Kiddie Katydid felt hungry he drove away his gnawing pangs by browsing upon leaves and tender

twigs. But Mr. Nighthawk had no taste for such fodder.

He had an appetite for insects. And between dusk and dawn a good many of Kiddie Katydid's neighbors of one

kind or another found their way into Mr. Nighthawk's tummy.

So you see it was no wonder that Kiddie was not eager to attract the attention of that night rover. Some of the more

timid of Kiddie's companions even begged him, at times, to hush. They said he was making such a noise that Mr.
Nighthawk would be sure to hear it, even if he were a quarter of a mile away.

But Kiddie Katydid usually laughed at those faint-hearted ones; and often he shrilled his Katy did, Katy did, more

loudly than before, just to show them that he was not afraid.

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"A person has to take a few chances," he remarked one day. "If we were all afraid to make a sound it would be

pretty hard on Katy, for then she would have nobody to take her part. And what would people think of her?"

Evidently Kiddie's reason was a good one, because a number of his cousins spoke up at once and said that they

agreed with him perfectly.

But their sisters all exclaimed that sooner or later Mr. Nighthawk would hear them; and then there would certainly

be trouble.

Strangely enough, the words were scarcely out of their mouths before they heard a loud call that struck them cold

with fear.

Peent! Peent! The cry came out of the air above them without the least warning. And everybody—including Kiddie

Katydid—knew that Mr. Nighthawk had come.

III

MR. NIGHTHAWK

Following his cry with two or three quick beats of his wings, Mr. Nighthawk dropped swiftly down among the trees

in Farmer Green's dooryard.

He fell so fast that Kiddie Katydid, watching from his hiding-place in one of the maples, couldn't help hoping that the

sky-coaster would be unable to stop himself in time to escape being dashed upon the ground.

But Mr. Nighthawk was very skillful at that sport. Just at the right moment he turned quickly, while the air rushed

through his wing-feathers with a roaring sound. And then he mounted upward again.

Meanwhile Kiddie Katydid kept very still among the leaves, with his wings folded over his back. Only his two long,

thread-like feelers would wave backwards and forwards, although he tried to keep them still. He was so nearly the
color of the green of the tree-top that he trusted Mr. Nighthawk wouldn't be able to spy him.

But he was soon disappointed. For Mr. Nighthawk suddenly cried, "Ha!" and alighted on a neighboring limb.

"There you are!" he said. "You needn't think I don't see you!"

"Why, good evening!" Kiddie Katydid answered, since he was discovered—and there was no use denying it. "It's a

great surprise—meeting you so unexpectedly. If you'd only sent word that you were coming I'd have made different
arrangements."

"I've no doubt you would have!" Mr. Nighthawk sneered. "But I like to take people unawares. . . . I've heard about

you," he added. "They say that you're a great jumper—the spriest jumper in all Pleasant Valley."

"Well, I can jump fairly well," Kiddie Katydid admitted. "But I don't pride myself on my jumping. It's something that

has always run in my family, you know. All of us Katydids can leap quite a distance without any trouble."

"So I understand!" Mr. Nighthawk replied. "And I'll tell you some news that ought to please you: I've come here to-

night for the special purpose of seeing you jump!"

Kiddie Katydid almost jumped out of his skin when he heard what Mr. Nighthawk said. And it wouldn't have been

anything remarkable for him if he had. He had already squirmed out of his skin six times that summer—though not from
fear, of course. Casting his skin was almost a habit with Kiddie. All his family were like that.

Though he was not nearly so old as Mr. Nighthawk, Kiddie Katydid had learned a thing or two during his brief

lifetime. And though he would have liked very much to jump—and jump out of Mr. Nighthawk's sight, too—he had no
wish to hide himself inside that feathered scoundrel. So he clung all the tighter to his perch and replied that he didn't
believe he cared to do any jumping that night.

Now, Mr. Nighthawk had a certain odd trick of talking through his nose. Whether that was because the late hours

he kept, even on dark nights, gave him a cold in his head, nobody seemed to know. Anyhow, he began teasing Kiddie
Katydid to jump for him—and he talked through his nose more than ever. Yes! although Mr. Nighthawk tried his best
to speak pleasantly, he only succeeded in making Kiddie Katydid want to laugh at him, for all Kiddie was so uneasy.

IV

A WHINING CALLER

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"I certainly hope you aren't going to disappoint me?" Mr. Nighthawk whined, as he looked hungrily at Kiddie

Katydid. "Please, please jump for me—just once!" he begged. "Here I've come all the way across the meadow on
purpose to see what a fine jumper you are! And I shall feel very unhappy if you don't perform for me."

But Kiddie Katydid refused to budge.

"I hadn't intended to do any leaping to-night," he told Mr. Nighthawk. "And if I jumped for you, it would only upset

my plans."

"I know—I know," said Mr. Nighthawk, nodding his head. "But I thought that just to oblige a friend you wouldn't

object to jumping from this tree into that one." And he pointed to the nearest maple, the branches of which all but
touched the tree-top in which they were sitting. But Kiddie Katydid's mind was made up.

"No jumping for me to-night!" he piped in a shrill voice.

All this time Mr. Nighthawk was growing hungrier than ever. And one might well wonder why he didn't make one

quick spring at Kiddie Katydid and swallow him. But that was not Mr. Nighthawk's way of dining.

"Well," he said at last, "though you refuse to jump for me, won't you kindly call some other member of your family

and ask him to oblige me?"

"I don't know where my relations are just now," replied Kiddie Katydid. "Some of them were here a while ago; but

they went away." And that was quite true! At that peent—that first warning cry—of Mr. Nighthawk's, they had all
vanished as if by magic, among the leaves.

"What about that Katy you're always talking about?" Mr. Nighthawk then inquired. "Don't you suppose you could

find her and persuade her to do a little jumping for me—just to show me how it's done?"

"I'm sorry—" Kiddie said somewhat stiffly, "I'm sorry; but I must absolutely refuse to do such a thing. Now that

you've mentioned her, I'll simply say Katy did. And beyond that I cannot discuss her with you."

"She did what?" Mr. Nighthawk wanted to know—through his nose.

But Kiddie Katydid declined to answer that question. He merely hugged his wings closer to his green body, and shot

a sly glance at Mr. Nighthawk, as if to say, "Ah! That's for you to find out! But I shan't tell you!"

Mr. Nighthawk looked rather foolish. He had always supposed that any one who spent a good part of every night

saying the same thing over and over and over again must be quite dull-witted. But now he began to think that perhaps
Kiddie Katydid was brighter than the field people generally believed him to be. And when Kiddie suddenly asked him
a question, he was sure of his mistake.

"Did you know," said Kiddie, "that Solomon Owl often visits these farm buildings?"

"Why, no! I wasn't aware of that," Mr. Nighthawk replied with a quick, nervous look behind him. "What brings him

here?"

"Chickens!" Kiddie Katydid explained. "Solomon Owl is very fond of chickens. But they do say that he's not above

eating a nighthawk when he happens to stumble upon one."

V

SOLOMON OWL'S CRY

For a few moments Mr. Nighthawk fidgeted about on his branch of the maple tree. What Kiddie Katydid said to

him about Solomon Owl frightened him. And he almost wished he hadn't come to Farmer Green's dooryard that night.

But the more he thought about the matter, the less he was inclined to believe that there was really any danger. And

soon he peered at Kiddie Katydid through the darkness and said:

"You almost fooled me. But I know now what you were trying to do. You were trying to scare me away from here!"

"Katy did, Katy did; she did, she did!"

"You needn't say that!" Mr. Nighthawk exclaimed. "Katy has nothing to do with my case. She hasn't even mentioned

Solomon Owl's name."

"You don't understand," Kiddie told him. "I'm speaking of an entirely different matter."

And then Mr. Nighthawk had another idea. He chased the frown away from his face and smiled very pleasantly.

"I'm sorry that you don't feel like jumping for me," he observed. "But I'd be just as glad to see you fly! I remember

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being told that you fly almost as well as you jump."

"Oh, I can't begin to fly as well as you can," Kiddie Katydid told Mr. Nighthawk. "I only wish I knew how to coast

down out of the sky the way you do, without being dashed upon the ground. . . . How do you manage to stop so
suddenly?"

"Pooh! That's nothing!" Mr. Nighthawk said. "It's easy, once you know how."

In spite of his way of belittling his flying feats, Mr. Nighthawk was secretly very proud of his skill at sky-coasting.

And when Kiddie Katydid asked him if he wouldn't kindly give an exhibition of the art of fancy flying, Mr. Nighthawk
couldn't help feeling pleased.

He wanted to display his skill. But there was just one thing that troubled him. He was afraid that if he climbed up into

the sky, before he dropped down again Kiddie Katydid would have vanished. And that didn't suit Mr. Nighthawk's
plans.

"Will you promise to stay right where you are until I come back?" he asked.

Now, Kiddie Katydid had intended to hide himself as soon as Mr. Nighthawk should leave him. But there was

nothing he could do now except to agree to Mr. Nighthawk's proposal.

"I'll promise," said Kiddie, "if you'll promise me that you'll surely return. Otherwise I might have to stay here for a

month, perhaps, waiting for you."

"Oh! I'll come back in a minute or two," Mr. Nighthawk laughed, as he looked hungrily at Kiddie. "Don't you worry

about my not coming back to talk with you!"

Then he began climbing upwards into the sky. And he had gone about as high as he wished to, when all at once a

rolling Whoo-whoo-whoo, whoo-whoo, to-whoo-ah startled him. It was Solomon Owl's weird call. And it drove
every thought except one out of Mr. Nighthawk's head. That one idea—to escape—filled his mind completely. And he
turned and hurried away from Farmer Green's place as fast as he could go; for Mr. Nighthawk feared that Solomon
Owl would arrive there at any moment.

As for Kiddie Katydid, when he heard Solomon's cry he knew at once that he was rid of Mr. Nighthawk. And

Kiddie's Katy did, Katy did; she did, she did rang out again and again in the night. All his friends and cousins crept out
of their hiding-places and joined in the chorus. And everybody enjoyed a good laugh over Mr. Nighthawk's visit—and
his sudden departure.

Perhaps Kiddie may be forgiven for boasting the least bit, as his companions crowded around him.

"I knew better than to jump for Mr. Nighthawk!" he cried. "I happened to know that he always wants to catch his

food on the wing. And if I had jumped, or tried to fly away, he would have snatched me right out of the air as quick as
lightning."

VI

FREDDIE FIREFLY'S DISCOVERY

That secret about Katy, and what she did, was not the only one that Kiddie hid from the field people. He had

another—something about himself—that nobody ever suspected, until Freddie Firefly stumbled upon it one night.

Probably Freddie would never have learned this second secret had he not been trying to find out about the first one.

Over in the meadow he had heard Kiddie Katydid shrilling his well-worn ditty, Katy did; she did, she did! And he had
danced his way into Farmer Green's dooryard because he wanted to have a talk with Kiddie and ask him some
questions about that unknown lady.

Like all others who tried to pry into the mystery, Freddie Firefly had no luck at all. For Kiddie Katydid made no

reply to his inquiries. Kiddie merely smiled in a most annoying fashion and kept on repeating the refrain.

"Doesn't your voice ever get tired, singing those silly words over and over again all night long?" Freddie Firefly finally

asked.

"Oh! no, indeed!" said Kiddie Katydid. "On the contrary it rests my voice to do this." And he solemnly shrilled the

chorus more rapidly than ever.

"There's something queer about that cry of yours!" Freddie Firefly suddenly exclaimed. "I'm watching you closely;

but I can't see that your mouth moves the least bit."

Again Kiddie Katydid smiled. He saw that Freddie Firefly was puzzled.

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Kiddie's Secret is Discovered by Freddie

Firefly
(Page 28)

"Why do you keep moving your wings when you say Katy did?"

Freddie Firefly asked him at last.

But Kiddie refused to answer that question—a fact which at once

made Freddie suspicious. He moved nearer Kiddie Katydid and
flashed his light upon him every time Kiddie repeated his odd
statement about Katy. And soon Freddie Firefly grew much excited.
He actually danced up and down, he was so astonished.

"I've found you out!" he cried in a loud voice. "It's no wonder your

voice doesn't get tired from that song! For you don't really sing it at
all! You make that queer sound by rubbing your wing covers
together!"

Kiddie Katydid abruptly ceased his shrilling. He looked most

uncomfortable. And it was not surprising. He had not supposed that
Freddie Firefly—or anybody else—would be shrewd enough to
discover that secret. It was a family secret—one that had been closely
guarded by the Katydids since the beginning of time, almost. And here
he had gone and let Freddie Firefly find it out!

"I'm right about that and you can't deny it!" cried Freddie Firefly

boldly. "You may as well admit that what I say is true," he added.

"I certainly won't dispute you," Kiddie Katydid replied. "I have too

good manners to do anything so rude as that."

"I don't care about your manners," Freddie answered. "I dare say they're good enough, although some people think

it's rather rude of you to make so much noise when a good many others are trying to sleep."

"I should like to know who objects to my music?" Kiddie Katydid exclaimed hotly. "If Farmer Green has been

talking to you, I should like to state that he had better be careful. Anyone who drives a clattering mowing-machine
around, when a lot of us are trying to get our rest in the daytime, ought not to complain about a little music on a
pleasant night like this."

VII

FREDDIE WANTS TO TELL

As soon as Kiddie Katydid mentioned the word music, Freddie Firefly began to dance and shout.

"There!" he cried. "You've just the same as told me that I was right. If you sang your Katy did, Katy did; she did,

she did, you would call it singing. But since you make that ditty by rubbing your wing covers together, it is music. And
you just referred to it as such!"

Well, Kiddie Katydid couldn't say a single word. Freddie Firefly was right. They both knew it. And the secret was

hopelessly "out." In fact, it was a secret no longer—unless Kiddie Katydid could persuade Freddie Firefly to keep the
news to himself.

"You won't say anything about this little matter, I hope," Kiddie began.

"Won't I?" said Freddie Firefly. "Why, I just couldn't help telling people what I've learned! It's the biggest bit of

news that I've known since I've lived in Pleasant Valley. And I must get word of it to old Mr. Crow somehow."

"Why Mr. Crow?" Kiddie Katydid inquired anxiously. He knew that the old gentleman was a great gossip. "You

might as well put this in a newspaper as tell Mr. Crow about it."

"Ah! That's just the point!" cried Freddie. "Mr. Crow is a newspaper. Perhaps you didn't know it; but every

Saturday he flies over Blue Mountain to the pond where Brownie Beaver lives and tells Brownie all the news of the past
week."

"Then for pity's sake, don't let him hear of this!" Kiddie begged.

But nothing could have stopped Freddie Firefly.

"You're too modest," he said. "It's a shame to be able to make music the way you do and not let the neighbors know

it. Why, the first thing you know you'll be one of the most famous people in this whole valley."

"But I don't want to be!" Kiddie Katydid cried. "I'm not like you. You go dancing about every night, flashing your

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light so everyone can see you. But I stay among the trees and shrubs. And I even wear a green suit—which matches the
color of the leaves—so people won't notice me. Of course," Kiddie added, "I don't mind if the public hears my music.
But I don't care to be seen, as a rule. And I don't like callers a bit!"

"You don't, eh?" remarked Freddie Firefly. "Then it's time for me to be moving along. For I never stay where I'm not

welcome." And he flitted away, feeling somewhat peevish—and all the more determined to get the news of the
discovered secret to Mr. Crow at the earliest possible moment.

How he was going to do that he didn't quite know.

There was little chance of his seeing Mr. Crow, for the old gentleman only waked up at the time Freddie Firefly was

ready to go to bed—about dawn.

He was pondering over his difficulty, which bothered him not a little, when a terrific croaking from the direction of

the swamp reached his ears. It was the final chorus of the Frog family's nightly singing party. And it promptly put an idea
into Freddie Firefly's head.

"I'll hurry right over there and speak to Mr. Frog, the well-known tailor," he said to himself. "He knows old Mr.

Crow. He sees him almost every day. And he'll be glad to give the old gentleman a message."

VIII

SPREADING THE NEWS

When Freddie Firefly reached the swamp he found that the singing party had already broken up. But luckily, Mr.

Frog the tailor was the last one to leave. He was still poised on the bank of the sluggish stream, ready to plunge into the
water and swim away, when Freddie Firefly dropped down upon a cat-tail and called him by name, flashing his light
frantically so that Mr. Frog would be sure to notice him.

"Wait a moment!" cried Freddie. "I've something to say to you!"

"Out with it, then!" said Mr. Frog. "My time is valuable, you know. I ought to be back in my shop this moment; for I

promised Paddy Muskrat I'd make him a policeman's uniform by to-morrow morning. And I haven't begun it yet."

"Why not?" asked Freddie, forgetting—for the moment—his own errand.

"He wants brass buttons," explained the tailor. "And I couldn't get any until to-night."

"But couldn't you go ahead without them?" Freddie Firefly inquired.

"Certainly not!" replied Mr. Frog. "I see you don't know much about making a policeman's suit. You start by laying

the buttons in a row on the ground; and then you sew the cloth onto them. . . . That's my own invention—that method,"
he added with an air of pride. "And now, what was it you wanted to say to me?"

"I don't believe there's any use of my telling you, after all," Freddie Firefly replied. "You're going to be so busy that

you won't have time to do an errand for me. I wanted you to give Mr. Crow a message."

"Yes—I'll be altogether too rushed to bother with it," said Mr. Frog. "I expect to be on the jump all night—and most

of to-morrow, too."

"This message," Freddie Firefly went on, "was something about Kiddie Katydid. I found out his secret to-night. And

I thought Mr. Crow ought to know about it."

Now, Mr. Frog was all ready to leap into the water. But when Freddie said that, the tailor promptly changed his

mind.

"Kiddie Katydid's secret!" he repeated in a tone of amazement. "You don't mean to say you've discovered what it

was that Katy did?"

"Never mind!" said Freddie. "I don't want to trouble you, Mr. Frog. I know you're too busy to bother your head

with such things."

"Tut, tut, young man!" Mr. Frog cried. "I see you have something important to tell me. And since that is the case, I'll

manage somehow to deliver your message to Mr. Crow, even if I have to disappoint a customer. Always oblige a
friend! That's my motto!" said Mr. Frog.

"Very well, then!" Freddie Firefly replied. "I'll say what I was going to; but it doesn't concern that Katy person you

just mentioned."

"Oh, it doesn't," the tailor echoed. "Then I don't know that I care to listen to you, after all. I thought you were going

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to explain about that mysterious lady that Kiddie's always singing about." He was sadly disappointed. And once more
he turned toward the creek.

IX

MR. FROG IS PLEASED

"Kiddie Katydid doesn't sing!" Freddie Firefly told Mr. Frog hurriedly.

And Mr. Frog was so surprised that he almost sat right down in the mud.

"What do you mean?" he cried. "You must be crazy! For there isn't a single person in all Pleasant Valley that hasn't

heard Kiddie Katydid singing his tiresome song on a fine midsummer night."

"That—" replied Freddie Firefly—"that is just where you're mistaken, Mr. Frog. And that's where everybody else is

mistaken, too. To-night I was lucky enough to learn that Kiddie Katydid has been fooling us all this time."

"You don't say so!" said Mr. Frog. "Then who is it that sings that everlasting chorus?"

"Nobody!"

"Nonsense!" Mr. Frog scoffed. "I can be fooled once, maybe. But I'm not to be fooled twice. And you needn't think

for a moment that you can make me believe any such thing."

"I don't care whether you believe it or not," Freddie Firefly declared. "All I ask you to do is to tell the story to Mr.

Crow."

"He won't believe it, either," the tailor retorted.

"Perhaps he will when he hears the rest of the message," Freddie answered. "I was just going to explain that Kiddie

Katydid has a trick of rubbing his wing covers together to make that Katy did sound."

"For the land's sake!" cried Mr. Frog, as he leaped into the water, convinced at last of the truth of Freddie Firefly's

claim. "I must hurry home at once, for dawn's already breaking. And Mr. Crow may come sailing over my place at any
moment." He landed with a splash in the creek and started to swim rapidly away. But after a few strokes he paused and
turned around. "You might almost say that Kiddie Katydid is a fiddler, mightn't you?" he called.

"Something like that!" Freddie Firefly agreed a bit doubtfully.

"I'll tell Mr. Crow that, anyhow," said the tailor. "It will make the story more interesting, at least. And so far as I can

see, it can't do any harm."

And then he hastened away, leaving Freddie Firefly to get home as best he could in the gray of the early morning.

"You may as well put out your light!" Mr. Frog shouted back, as he disappeared among the reeds. But he didn't wait

to see whether Freddie took his advice. He was too much excited over the strange news. And as he swam easily along
with practiced strokes he kept talking to himself.

"I'm a pretty clever chap, I am!" he chuckled. "I've discovered a great secret this night. And old Mr. Crow will be

glad to hear all about it. Perhaps he'll want me to help him with his newspaper after this.

"And for all I know I'll have so much to do that I won't be able to make any more clothes for my customers."

He hadn't swum far before he had entirely forgotten that it was really Freddie Firefly who had discovered the secret

and told it to him.

No doubt if anybody had reminded Mr. Frog of that fact he would have been very indignant.

X

A PAIR OF RASCALS

Mr. Frog reached home just as the sun peeped over the hills. He slipped hastily out of the water, sprang up the bank

of the creek, and in three jumps landed on the roof of his tailor's shop. There he squatted, while his queer, bulging eyes
scanned the sky in every direction. He was watching for Mr. Crow, and all but bursting with the news that he had for
the old gentleman.

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Mr. Frog had not sat there long before he heard a hoarse Caw, caw! in the distance.

"There he is!" cried the tailor aloud. "There's the old boy! He'll be in sight in a moment."

And sure enough! soon Mr. Crow flapped out of the woods and came sailing over the meadows.

Thereupon Mr. Frog set up a great croaking. And to his delight his elderly friend heard him calling and dropped

down at once.

"I've some news for you," Mr. Frog announced, as soon as the old black scamp alighted near him.

"It'll have to keep," Mr. Crow replied. "I'm on my way to the cornfield. I haven't had my breakfast yet. And a

person of my age has to eat his meals regularly."

The sprightly tailor looked slightly disappointed.

"I don't know whether the news will keep or not," he replied slyly. "It's very important. And I may have to tell it to

someone else first if you don't care to hear it now."

"What's your news about?" Mr. Crow asked him gruffly. "I suppose you've made another suit for somebody. And

you remember I told you I couldn't put that news in my newspaper any more unless you paid me something. It's
advertising. And nobody gets free advertising."

"This news is something entirely different from anything you've ever heard," Mr. Frog insisted. "It's about Kiddie

Katydid. He's a——"

"Wait till I come back from the cornfield!" Mr. Crow pleaded.

"I can't! I simply must tell it now!" Mr. Frog cried.

"Very well! But please talk fast; for I'm terribly hungry."

"Kiddie Katydid is a fiddler," Mr. Frog announced. "He fiddles every night. And that's the way he makes that ditty

of his—Katy did, Katy——"

"Don't!" Mr. Crow begged. "Please don't! It's bad enough to have to hear that silly chorus every time I happen to

wake up during the night—bad enough, I say, without being obliged to listen to it in broad daylight."

"Very well!" the tailor yielded. "But he fiddles it, all the same. And when you tell my tale to Brownie Beaver I guess

he'll be surprised."

"I shan't tell him," Mr. Crow declared, thereby astonishing Mr. Frog.

"Why not?" the tailor demanded.

"We've had a slight disagreement," said Mr. Crow with a hoarse laugh. "I'm not his newspaper any longer."

"Well, there's nothing to prevent your telling this story to other people, is there? And you certainly will be willing to

mention me at the same time, won't you?" Mr. Frog inquired with an anxious pucker between his strange eyes.

"Where do you come in, pray tell?" Mr. Crow inquired coldly.

"Why, I discovered the secret!"

"Perhaps you did—and perhaps you didn't," Mr. Crow observed. Being very, very old, he was very, very wise.

And he had long since learned that Mr. Frog was a somewhat slippery person. "If I spread any such news as this about
Pleasant Valley I shall do it in my own way," he remarked. And thereupon the old gentleman rose quickly and
disappeared in the direction of the cornfield, without so much as a "Thank you!"

Mr. Frog gazed after him mournfully.

"If that isn't just my luck!" he lamented. "I ought to have kept the secret till after the old boy had his breakfast. Then

perhaps he'd have been better natured."

XI

A CHANGE IN THE WEATHER

Well, the day was not half gone before all the wild creatures in Pleasant Valley had heard all about Kiddie Katydid

and his fiddling. At least twenty-seven people came to Mr. Frog at different times and told him the news. And he was
furious.

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"Old Mr. Crow has deceived me!" he complained. "I found out this secret myself. And now that black rascal's

taking all the credit for it."

"Mr. Crow has suggested that Kiddie Katydid be invited to join the Pleasant Valley orchestra," Long Bill Wren

informed Mr. Frog. "They have no fiddlers, you know. And Kiddie will be a great help to them. Mr. Crow has
appointed a committee to call on Kiddie to-night and ask him to come to the next concert."

That was the last straw, so far as Mr. Frog was concerned.

"Mr. Crow might at least have put me on the committee," he spluttered. "But he has left me out in the cold."

"Why, it's not cold to-day!" Long Bill exclaimed. "Quite warm—I call it!"

"It'll be good and cold by night," said Mr. Frog. "I look for a sudden change in the weather. Nobody ought to

venture out to-night without his heaviest overcoat on."

After flinging that remark over his shoulder, Mr. Frog flung himself inside his tailor's shop and slammed the door

behind him. And then, sitting down cross-legged upon his table, he began to think, wrinkling his low brow until you
might have supposed he would need to smooth it out again with one of his flat-irons.

At last the tailor suddenly quit thinking and smiled very widely from ear to ear. And carefully selecting some soft,

warm, green cloth he began to fashion a small garment, which was tiny enough to fit—well, to fit a person as little as
Kiddie Katydid.

Being a spry worker, Mr. Frog finished his task by nightfall. And then, taking his handiwork with him, he left his

shop—after locking the door behind him—and hid himself beneath a shelving rock on the bank of the creek.

He was in a very happy mood; for his ideas about the weather had proved to be good. It was already turning cold.

"If it wasn't midsummer I should think we were going to have a frost!" Mr. Frog exclaimed, buttoning the long coat

which he had donned before going out of doors. "I wish they'd hurry up!" he added mysteriously. He kept a close
watch upon his shop door. It was evident that he expected callers.

Not long afterward a crowd began to gather in front of Mr. Frog's door. "Back Soon" said the sign upon it. And the

thinly clad, shivering knot of field folk sat themselves down unhappily and waited for the tailor to appear. Every one of
them wanted a warm new overcoat, for each expected to be out late that night.

Meanwhile Mr. Frog watched them—and giggled as loud as he dared. It was Mr. Crow's committee that thronged

about his door—the people who were expecting to call upon Kiddie Katydid that very night to invite him to join the
Pleasant Valley orchestra.

XII

A PRESENT FOR KIDDIE

Mr. Frog had a delightful time listening to the remarks of his callers, who had no idea that he was so near at hand.

And as the weather grew colder, they began to shiver and their voices began to shake. And by the time it was almost
dark all the waiting company were quite discouraged.

"I'll never be able to stay out to-night!" Chirpy Cricket declared. "I'm so cold now that I can scarcely move."

And it was the same with everybody else. Even Freddie Firefly complained that his light didn't warm him in the least.

And he said he would have to go home at once.

"Mr. Crow will be very angry with us to-morrow when he learns we haven't called on Kiddie Katydid," somebody

remarked. And a hush fell upon the company. But Chirpy Cricket had a happy thought, which made them all feel better.

"Kiddie Katydid won't stay out of doors on a night like this!" he suddenly exclaimed. "He'll find some snug place to

creep into. And we wouldn't be able to find him in Farmer Green's dooryard even if we tried to."

"That's so!" Chirpy's companions shouted.

"Then there's no need of our freezing here any longer, waiting for that wretched tailor, Mr. Frog!" said Freddie

Firefly.

And somehow, Mr. Frog did not smile quite so widely over that speech.

Nevertheless, he was pleased, on the whole. And not waiting to watch the shivering party leave the neighborhood,

he set off at once toward Farmer Green's house, making first for the river, which ran near the farm buildings, because
Mr. Frog did not like to travel by land.

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Kiddie Took His New Coat From the Twig

(Page 59)

Because the air was cool, the water felt all the warmer. And by the time Mr. Frog had reached his journey's end he

was almost overheated. Besides, as he noticed, it was not so cold in Farmer Green's dooryard as it had been by the
creek.

He stopped, for a few moments, to cool himself in the watering-trough. And then he hopped briskly on to the front

yard.

To his great delight he had scarcely reached the clump of maple trees when right above him he heard Kiddie

Katydid's famous refrain.

"Good evening!" Mr. Frog called. "I've brought a little present for you, all the way from the creek."

"How-dy do!" said Kiddie Katydid. "It's a cool night, isn't it?"

"You won't mind the weather when you put this on," Mr. Frog replied, holding up the small garment he had made

that afternoon.

"What's that?" Kiddie Katydid asked.

"An overcoat, fashioned expressly for you by the finest tailor in

Pleasant Valley!" said Mr. Frog very proudly.

"You're exceedingly kind, I'm sure," said Kiddie. And he was

about to jump down and slip into the coat when he noticed that Mr.
Frog had an extremely wide mouth. . . . Suppose, after slipping into
the coat, he should find himself slipping down the tailor's throat?

"Just hang the coat on a twig and I'll get into it a little later," Kiddie

Katydid suggested.

"I see!" Mr. Frog cried. "That's your way of accepting a gift. And I

wouldn't dream of quarreling with you about that. So I'll hang the coat
right here and go back to the watering-trough to wet my feet. While
I'm gone you can try the coat on, and tell me how you like it when I
come back."

"I hope it's a green one!" said Kiddie Katydid somewhat

anxiously. "For if it isn't green, I couldn't wear it, you know. I always
wear green. It's my favorite color."

"Ah! Trust me not to make a mistake!" Mr. Frog chuckled happily.

And then he withdrew. But he could not help pausing for a moment,
to look back and watch, while Kiddie sprang down from his tree and
took his new coat from the twig on which the tailor had hung it.

XIII

KIDDIE KATYDID IS SHY

"Now—" said Mr. Frog, when he had returned from the watering-trough—"now tell me, how do you like the

overcoat I made for you?"

And Kiddie Katydid, safe in his tree once more, and snugly buttoned in Mr. Frog's gift, replied that it was the finest

garment he had ever owned in all his life.

"Good!" said Mr. Frog. "And I dare say you've had many overcoats in your time, too."

Kiddie Katydid did not correct Mr. Frog's mistake. To tell the truth, he had never before had an overcoat on his

back.

"I've come here to-night to deliver an important message to you," Mr. Frog went on. "And thinking the weather

might be cooler than you liked, I made you that fine coat so you could stay out here in your tree and listen to what I
have to tell you. . . . I hear—" he said—"I hear that you're a musician."

"Yes!" said Kiddie Katydid—for he knew well enough that Freddie Firefly could not have kept the secret.

"I hear that you're a fiddler," Mr. Frog added.

"Why, no! I've never played the fiddle!" Kiddie Katydid exclaimed. "I don't know how to do that."

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